Sandwich/Black Mountains
Where: Sandwich/Black Mountains
When: Summer, 1988
With: Solo
I thought I'd explore a new section of this area and maybe look for my lost pipe. I went in on the Sandwich Mountain trail, off route 49. The hike was relatively easy at first, but started to ascend pretty steeply as it climbed to the ridge. I tried to keep up a good pace and soon crested the ridge. The hike up there was much easier and the views grand, with overlooks in all directions at various points. Finally I reached the junction with the Algonquin trail, which I planned to follow down. I debated going up to the summit, but I was pretty beat and didn't know how far the summit was so I just headed down.
Soon after the junction, I met up with a group of hikers coming up with light daypacks. We greeted each other and I realized they were Soviets. They said they were camping down below and I was the first person they'd seen in days. We parted and I continued on to the Black Mountain trail. I followed this steep, rough trail down to the pond and the shelter, where I finally stopped. I was exhausted, mostly because I'd just hiked 6.7 miles and climbed up and over a nearly 4000 foot mountain without a stop for food! And it was barely noon.
I rested long enough to gain back some strength (I don't remember if I ate anything) and then continued on. As I passed along the pond shore I spotted the tents of the hikers I'd passed and thought I might come back later with my small supply of vodka (I never did). Just past the pond, I left the trail and followed the stream down to my destination for the day, the campsite on the cliff used on an earlier hike. It was still quite early in the day, and I considered continuing on along my loop to cut down on the next day's hike. I was so tired though that I decided I'd done enough for one day and just set up camp. I settled down with my vodka and a grapefruit on the cliff and watched the sun go down.
The next morning I broke camp and headed on down the trail. I had a ways to go, so I shifted into high gear and put down some serious distance. The trail was perfect for the task, an easy downhill to the Guinea Pond trail and then a constant gradual uphill 3.8 miles to the Gleason trail via the Flat Mountain Pond trail.
Here things got rough. The trail went straight up the hill. Finally it leveled off and the hike got interesting. A foggy drizzle settled in and the woods took on a mysterious feel as I walked along the side of the mountain. The weather got worse as I neared the top. The wind picked up and the drizzle turned into a light rain. I broke out my rain gear on the summit and sat and enjoyed what there was of a view.
After a bit, I headed down and was surprised to find the Algonquin trail junction just a few yards below the summit, a distance I'd thought too long to try on the way up. I passed a man and his son (or was it a dog?) and continued on down. I decided to take the Drakes Brook trail back to the car. It turned out to be a good choice. A very pretty trail.
When: Summer, 1988
With: Solo
I thought I'd explore a new section of this area and maybe look for my lost pipe. I went in on the Sandwich Mountain trail, off route 49. The hike was relatively easy at first, but started to ascend pretty steeply as it climbed to the ridge. I tried to keep up a good pace and soon crested the ridge. The hike up there was much easier and the views grand, with overlooks in all directions at various points. Finally I reached the junction with the Algonquin trail, which I planned to follow down. I debated going up to the summit, but I was pretty beat and didn't know how far the summit was so I just headed down.
Soon after the junction, I met up with a group of hikers coming up with light daypacks. We greeted each other and I realized they were Soviets. They said they were camping down below and I was the first person they'd seen in days. We parted and I continued on to the Black Mountain trail. I followed this steep, rough trail down to the pond and the shelter, where I finally stopped. I was exhausted, mostly because I'd just hiked 6.7 miles and climbed up and over a nearly 4000 foot mountain without a stop for food! And it was barely noon.
I rested long enough to gain back some strength (I don't remember if I ate anything) and then continued on. As I passed along the pond shore I spotted the tents of the hikers I'd passed and thought I might come back later with my small supply of vodka (I never did). Just past the pond, I left the trail and followed the stream down to my destination for the day, the campsite on the cliff used on an earlier hike. It was still quite early in the day, and I considered continuing on along my loop to cut down on the next day's hike. I was so tired though that I decided I'd done enough for one day and just set up camp. I settled down with my vodka and a grapefruit on the cliff and watched the sun go down.
The next morning I broke camp and headed on down the trail. I had a ways to go, so I shifted into high gear and put down some serious distance. The trail was perfect for the task, an easy downhill to the Guinea Pond trail and then a constant gradual uphill 3.8 miles to the Gleason trail via the Flat Mountain Pond trail.
Here things got rough. The trail went straight up the hill. Finally it leveled off and the hike got interesting. A foggy drizzle settled in and the woods took on a mysterious feel as I walked along the side of the mountain. The weather got worse as I neared the top. The wind picked up and the drizzle turned into a light rain. I broke out my rain gear on the summit and sat and enjoyed what there was of a view.
After a bit, I headed down and was surprised to find the Algonquin trail junction just a few yards below the summit, a distance I'd thought too long to try on the way up. I passed a man and his son (or was it a dog?) and continued on down. I decided to take the Drakes Brook trail back to the car. It turned out to be a good choice. A very pretty trail.
